


it makes sense (it doesn't always but that's okay)

by trashcan



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Polyamory, feelings and porn and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 14:12:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashcan/pseuds/trashcan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin never expected his feelings for Eren to come to anything, but Jean's more perceptive than he gives him credit for.<br/>Eren always comes to terms with things too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written for the snkkink meme, prompt can be found here: http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/3666.html?thread=5270610#cmt5270610
> 
> for some reason it turned into a multi-chaptered monstrosity...

It was never a problem when they had real problems to worry about. Armin hardly had time to mope about his feelings when he was in the field, fighting just to stay alive. Most of the time Armin managed to convince himself that it wasn't a problem at all.  
  
But now that Armin had been promoted and served in a more strategic role, he had plenty of time to let his mind wander when the plans and maps on his desk started to swim before his eyes.  
  
It was nothing like the tawdry romance novels he had pored over as a child. There wasn't any tearful pining. There was some heartache, but he wouldn't exactly call it throbbing or threatening to split him apart. Just a quiet wistfulness when he saw the name Eren Jaeger written (and it was frequently written) in the plans.  
  
It was strange to see his name written like that, reduced to a strategic resource. Armin liked to think that he saw him as more than that, but it was hard when Eren was the crux all their futures hinged on. He actually scared himself, sometimes, with his ability to compartmentalize his feelings. When he was scratching out suggestions on copies of plans, he was as calculating and detached as he should be. But whenever Eren returned from carrying out said plans, exhausted and struggling to regenerate his battered body, Armin couldn't help but be hit by his emotions like a punch to the gut.  
  
And yet despite all the grief and worry and guilt, Armin kept sending Eren back out there. It made him wonder if he really loved Eren.  
  
It would have been a lot easier if he didn't, that was for sure.  
  
Eren had just returned with the rest of the Legion. The mission was a success, at least, when considered on paper. Low casualties and high gains. Another inch in their slow crawl to Zhiganshina. But Eren had returned in even worse shape than usual – he was still unconscious and sans too many limbs when Jean carefully unloaded him from the horse cart into the waiting stretcher.  
  
Armin knew intellectually that Eren could survive worse, had already survived worse. But he couldn't stop the cold stab of panic in his chest as he pushed past the civilian crowd to be by Eren's side.  
  
“Stupid, self-sacrificing, suicidal bastard,” Jean said to Armin by way of greeting. His own face was pale and pinched with worry. “It's because of him that so many of us made it back this time. Help me move him back to HQ.” He knelt by one side of the stretcher and motioned for Armin to do the same. The medics had long since given up trying to treat Eren; they had all learned by this point that their time was better spent taking care of the soldiers who couldn't regenerate their limbs.  
  
Armin picked up his side with shaking hands. Eren was much too light on the stretcher – probably because of the missing limbs. He tightened his grip on the handles until the shaking stopped.  
  
“It does make sense,” Jean said as they walked. “I know it makes sense. Eren can take the most damage, and it's not like it's going to be permanent. Better for him to get messed up than the rest of the Legion, right?”  
  
Jean frowned, his eyes fixed on Eren's lightly steaming, but otherwise still form. “But it's hard to see him like this.”  
  
It was hard, Armin agreed. It was all he could do to hold up the front of the stretcher and keep his knees from buckling.  
  
Having reached their destination, they set him down and sat side by side in silence, watching the steam rise from Eren's body.  
  
“Your lip's bleeding,” Jean pointed out. With a start, Armin realized he was right. At some point he had bitten through the skin and hadn't even noticed. He hastily licked it away, the copper taste of it burning in the back of his throat.  
  
Jean gave him a sidelong glance, calculating but not unkind. Armin couldn't help but flush under his scrutiny.  
  
“It must really mess you up, having to send him out like this.” Jean shifted his gaze away. “Since you do love him.”  
  
Leave it to Jean to say that in the most blunt, tactless way possible.  
  
“Is it really that obvious?” Armin sputtered when his brain started working again.  
  
“Well, no, but I am pretty good at reading people, you know?” Jean had the decency to at least look a little embarrassed. Armin knew him well enough by this point not to be too offended, anyway.  
  
The stumps of Eren's legs started pushing back into some semblance of knees. Jean and Armin watched in silence before Jean turned to Armin again.  
  
“Could you sacrifice Eren if that's what it came to?”  
  
“How can you ask me that?” Armin refused to look at Jean, opting instead to watch Eren's kneecaps come back in. “That's not fair. That's not a fair question.”  
  
Jean signed, leaning forward to rest his arms on his legs. “Sorry, it's been a long expedition. My brain-mouth filter is even worse than usual. It's just that,” and he gave Armin a sort of half-squint that caught him by surprise, “you scare me sometimes, Armin. I never know if what's going on in your brain matches what's going on in your heart.”  
  
“What's that supposed to mean?”  
  
“I don't know. I've just been trying to figure out why you've never done anything about your feelings for Eren.”  
  
Armin scoffed. “I could say the same for you,” at which Jean just rolled his eyes. Jean kept looking at him expectantly, like he was waiting for him to say something. “Wait, are you really asking me that? Where do I even start? What an incredible conflict of interest it'd be for me to get into a relationship with our most important strategic asset, who by the way, in case you forgot, is usually strategically placed by _me_? Not to mention that we have enough complicated emotional baggage as it is, without adding romantic drama to the list. What if being emotionally compromised caused trouble on the field?”  
  
That outburst had come out a lot more emotional than Armin intended it too. Jean let the words ring in the air for a while, contemplating Eren's regenerating shins.  
  
“You're afraid of losing your friendship with him.” Jean said. It wasn't a question.  
  
Dimly Armin remembered Shadis ranking Jean's cognition as his strongest point. Of course Jean could see right through him. He groaned, running his hands through his lengthening hair. He really needed a haircut at some point.  
  
“Shit, Jean, we're not kids anymore. We have bigger problems to worry about now than who's kissing whom.”  
  
Jean opened his mouth for a retort, but stopped himself when Eren's toes finally materialized. “I won't say anything to him,” he said in response to the unspoken demand in Armin's gaze. “But, you know, you can always talk to me.”  
  
Armin noticed the half-flustered, half-surly expression on his face, but soon forgot it once Eren drew a sharp, shaky breath.


	2. Chapter 2

For all Jean claimed to be able to read other people's feelings, he was having a hell of a time trying to sort out his own. There was the _thing_ with Eren. He didn't even want to think about it, so he pushed away that convoluted ball of resentment and admiration and jealousy and worry to the back of his mind as he always did.  
  
And now, increasingly there was Armin, who day by day looked paler and thinner with the heavy weight of responsibility. At some point Armin had become convinced that the only way to win against the Titans was to deny his own humanity. Apparently, that included denying that he was even human, with his own desires and needs. Jean had no idea how to interpret the growing anxiety he felt every time his thoughts turned to Armin.  
  
Eren gasped, and his eyes snapped wide open, fixing upon Jean's face. “What happened? The Titans-”  
  
“Don't worry. We're back in the walls.”  
  
“How many did we lose this time?” Eren's eyes were still fixed on Jean's. He swallowed, suddenly unable to breathe under Eren's intensity.  
  
“You saved a lot of people,” Jean managed to say. “But you almost got yourself killed. You have to be more careful. If...if you actually died all this would be for nothing!”   
  
He paused, and bit his lip. He hadn't meant to raise his voice, or for it to quaver like that. But Eren just pathetically laid there on the stretcher, finally releasing Jean from his gaze.  
  
“Anyway, you're back now, and that's what matters,” Armin said quietly from Eren's other side, hugging himself tightly, as if to prevent himself from reaching out and touching him. “You should get some rest. Can you stand?”  
  
“I think, yeah.” Eren laboriously pushed himself into a sitting position, only to nearly fall back again as he winced in pain. “Sorry, can you give me a hand?”  
  
Armin gently pulled him upright. Jean didn't miss the way he didn't let his touch linger, how he drew his hands away almost too quickly. Eren took a few shaky steps, leaning heavily into Armin for support. Armin went statue-still, barely even breathing until Eren steadied himself.  
  
When Eren left, Armin let out the breath he had been holding. Jean considered continuing their previous conversation, but something about the utter exhaustion in Armin's face stung at his chest and he couldn't bring himself to say anything.  
  
“You should get some rest too, Jean,” Armin said. “You look like you need it.”  
  
And indeed, now that the knot of Eren-induced worry had dissipated, the soreness of his muscles and ache in his bones hit Jean all at once. He got up to leave, but not before giving Armin's shoulder a light squeeze. Armin smiled wearily up at him.  
  
-  
  
A long bath and nap later, Jean was feeling human again. He wasn't sure what had led him to abruptly ask Armin about his feelings for Eren like that – he doubted he had been completely lucid between the fatigue and Eren's body being only half there.  
  
Maybe that was it though, remembering another half-mangled body, only Marco would never get to regenerate his limbs and rise without even a single scar. He stopped that train of thought before it could progress any further; it wasn't fair to Eren, who had never chosen to become what he was. Still, seeing Armin sitting, aching but afraid to touch, by Eren's mangled side made old memories stir.  
  
At least he had a few years of happiness with Marco. The thought of Armin never getting a chance to let Eren know how he felt was almost too sad to bear ( _never mind that if Eren really died, they would have bigger problems to worry about_ , whispered the rational part of his mind.)  
  
Still, Jean couldn't bear to stand by and watch Armin suffer. If he knew Eren as well as he thought he did, then even if Eren didn't reciprocate Armin's feelings he wouldn't react too badly. Damn, maybe Eren was just rubbing off on him. The old Jean would never have advocated such risk-taking, but the old Jean had burned away with the rest of their classmates' bodies that night in Trost.  
  
Jean rubbed at his eyes and resolved to talk to Armin again.  
  
When Jean arrived at the mess hall for dinner, Eren was seated between Armin and Mikasa as always. Jean quickly spooned some food onto his plate and pushed Connie aside to make room next to Armin.  
  
“What the hell, man,” Connie grumbled, but looked between Jean and Armin. He raised his eyebrows. “Oh. _Oh._ I see. Well, you owe me one.”  
  
Jean patted his shaved head and chose to ignore him.   
  
“Hey Armin,” Jean asked in a low voice. “How are you doing now?”  
  
“Eren is fine, getting some more sleep did him good-”   
  
“I didn't ask how Eren was, I can see that he's fine.” Jean glanced around Armin's back to watch Mikasa pile food onto Eren's plate. “How are _you_ doing?”  
  
Armin laughed, a little too nervously. “Why wouldn't I be fine? I'm not the one who just returned from an expedition beyond the walls.”  
  
Jean gave him a pointed look. Armin's brow was still as wrinkled as it had been earlier that day. Upon further inspection, Armin was seated far enough from Eren so that there would be no risk of arm brushing against arm, but close enough so that dimwit wouldn't notice anything strange. While Eren's single-minded determination had earned Jean's grudging admiration (and even jealousy), it did render him remarkably obtuse at times.  
  
He couldn't imagine how badly Armin must have wanted to sit in the circle of Eren's arms, to feel him solid and alive beneath his hands after the scare of this morning. But Armin sat just beyond the reach of Eren's elbows, laughing and talking with him and Mikasa. He was practiced at hiding his longing, Jean supposed, and the thought made his own throat grow tight with sympathy.   
  
Despite having lived on terrible field rations for the past week, Jean found himself picking at his food. A glance to the side told him that Armin wasn't doing much better. Everyone else was starting to clear out of the mess hall already.  
  
“You going to finish that, Jean?” Sasha slid into the seat across from him, grinning through her black eye and split lip.  
  
“Not everyone eats as fast as a wild animal like you,” Jean retorted, but he broke off half of his bread nonetheless and tossed it to her. “I'll take pity on you since your face got so messed up. Eat this and recover already, damnit.”  
  
Sasha beamed, as much as she was able to, and left with Connie after tucking the bread away into her sleeve.  
  
Eren and Mikasa had left as well, leaving only Jean and Armin sitting next to each other.  
  
“You actually can be quite kind, huh?” Armin said, scraping the bottom of his bowl with his spoon.   
  
Jean mock-scowled. “Don't tell anyone or my reputation will be ruined.”  
  
Armin looked at him through blond bangs. “Was that the reason for your unsolicited advice earlier?”  
  
Well, now Jean was just embarrassed. “Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it. You'd understand too, if you had to see how miserable your face gets.”  
  
Armin gave a short laugh, without much humor in it. He idly pushed around the dregs of the stew in his bowl. “This whole thing is so weird. How pathetic is it to be secretly in love with your best friend?”  
  
“You know, Marco and I were best friends before we, well, got together.”  
  
Armin did that little flinch people did every time Marco's name was mentioned in front of Jean. Jean didn't understand it. It had been three years since that day in Trost. It still hurt, of course, but Jean hardly saw any point in tiptoeing around his existence.  
  
“We were so stupid that first year. I think the whole class knew we were crushing on each other except us.” He couldn't help but smile at the memory of that awkward year, dancing in circles around each other, even though it was bittersweet now. “But you know,” the smile died on his lips as he turned to look at Armin, “we wasted so much time, and that I do regret.”  
  
Armin still had that stupid expression of guilt or pity or whatever it was, like he was expecting Jean to burst out into tears at any time.  
  
“So maybe it kinda pisses me off to see you farting around like this, okay? I just don't want to see you regret anything.”  
  
Shit, despite himself he did feel his throat get a little tight. He hoped Armin didn't hear the slight waver in his voice on that last sentence.  
  
Armin didn't say anything for a while. Just as Jean was starting to feel foolish, Armin put his hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Thanks, I do appreciate it.” Armin smiled, and Jean pretended not to notice the moistness in his eyes. “You might be a bit of an ass, but you're an ass with a good heart.”  
  
“Anytime,” Jean grinned with faux bravado. “So... what are you going to do?”  
  
Armin sighed. “I'm not going to do anything.” He raised a hand against Jean's frown. “At least, not now. It's not easy, to decide to admit a crush you've nursed for years just like that.”  
  
“Fair enough,” Jean shrugged. “I'm not trying to push you into anything, just so we're clear. I just don't want you to pine away into nothingness. You're short enough as it is.”  
  
That last comment, stupid as it was, did achieve its goal of making Armin snort in laughter. “You're actually surprisingly easy to talk to about this stuff.”  
  
“Or maybe you've just kept it bottled up for so long, now that you've found a potential victim to rant at you can't stop.” Ah, there he went again, running his mouth. Armin and Jean had worked up a decent rapport and even a good friendship over the years, but Jean still had his moments of tactlessness. He never was good at knowing where to draw the line between playful sarcasm and just plain being mean. Judging by Armin's silence, he started to fear he had veered into the latter territory again.   
  
Thankfully, Armin spoke. “Well, since you volunteered yourself as my victim by bringing it up in the first place, would you mind if I...” he bit his lip, blushing a bit, and Jean's heart did a weird sort of flutter in his chest, “if I came over to your room tonight after chores? Just to talk? It is kind of awkward to discuss this in the middle of the mess hall.”  
  
Jean considered refusing him. He didn't know how it would feel, listening to Armin talk about Eren when he honestly was more than a little in love with the both of them (even if he could only admit it in a small corner of his mind). But Armin's face was so hesitant, as if he didn't quite dare to be hopeful, and he truly had no one else who would listen. It did strange things to Jean's stomach to know that Armin trusted him enough to spill his guts to him.  
  
Jean always was a pushover when it came down to it.  
  
So he said “Sure,” and hastened to collect their dishes, not wanting his face to betray his conflicting feelings to Armin.


	3. Chapter 3

Jean had long since finished his assigned duty of taking inventory of the remaining supplies from the expedition. Normally he would already be nodding off before his chores were even complete, but anticipation of the impending talk with Armin twisted up his stomach too much for him to feel sleepy.   
  
He fiddled with the sheets on his bed, trying to dispel his nervous energy. Armin still wasn't here. Maybe he changed his mind, or maybe he realized that Jean was hardly the best person to talk with about dealing with feelings in a rational and timely manner.  
  
Jean was ready to give up and attempt to go to bed when a soft knock sounded at his door. He leapt upright, hastily smoothing out his shirt before answering.  
  
“Hey,” Armin said with a small smile.  
  
“Hey,” Jean said back to him, and stepped aside to let him in. He let Armin take the one chair at his desk, and he sat on his bed.  
  
They sat and avoided eye contact for what felt like an eternity (but couldn't have been longer than a minute or so) when Armin finally laughed lightly, and put his head in his hands.  
  
“I'm sorry, this is so awkward,” he said. “But, you know, with everything that was going on, I don't think any of us really got the chance to just be teenagers. To do the whole growing up thing properly.”  
  
“I don't know about that,” Jean replied. “There was a lot of action going on in the 104th back in the day.” He couldn't help the small smirk, even though those whose names came to mind – Franz, Hannah, Marco – were all gone now. There was something reassuring, albeit morbid, about the fact that he could remember them as they lived and not just the horrific ways in which they died.  
  
“That is true,” mused Armin. “But don't you think there was always something kind of desperate about it? Even the kids that weren't from Zhiganshina knew abstractly, at least, that we could all die just in training. No wonder it was such a hormonal shitshow.”  
  
“Armin, come to think of it, I don't remember ever hearing about you hooking up with anyone.” Jean didn't miss Armin's blush.  
  
“I didn't really see a point if it wasn't with Eren,” he admitted, staring down at where his feet kicked against the chair. “And, well, I was busy trying my hardest not to die whenever we had to run or do anything physical.”  
  
“Wait, so you've never,” Jean paused, feeling a blush creep across his own face.  
  
Armin just nodded in response, his cheeks flushing red. “Is that... weird?” he asked hesitantly.  
  
“Well, I've only ever been with Marco before, so... I guess it can't be that weird. Er, I mean unusual. To not have a lot of experience at our age. And with everything that's happened to us.” Jean shut his mouth to prevent more words from coming out.  
  
Another awkward silence ensued. Jean found himself staring at Armin's slender fingers fidgeting on his desk.  
  
“Sorry, Jean, there was a lot I wanted to talk to you about. I had it all planned out in my head,” Armin finally broke the silence with an apologetic grin. “It's just – it still feels strange to talk to you of all people about Eren.”  
  
“I don't actually hate him, you know,” Jean said, a little hurt by the implication.  
  
Armin's expression softened. “I know. Actually, for the longest time, I thought you might, well, like him. In that way.” Seeing how Jean stiffened and blushed, Armin's brow wrinkled. “Wait. Do you?”  
  
Jean considered giving Armin the automatic denial he always served Sasha when she joked about “roundabout declarations of love,” but Armin had been so painfully honest with him already. It wouldn't be fair not to spill some guts of his own.  
  
“I don't know,” he said honestly, running his hands through his hair. “It's... really confusing. Eren is confusing.”  
  
Armin gave a hollow laugh. “We agree there.”  
  
“So, does that make me your rival in love now?” he joked with a lopsided grin, looking sidelong at Armin.  
  
“It would if Eren ever showed any interest in stuff like that. It's weird to even imagine him doing things like hugging, or kissing,” Armin's voice trailed off as both his and Jean's minds furiously worked at the mental image.  
  
Armin sighed. “It's getting pretty late. I should probably let you get some sleep. Thanks for listening to me, Jean. I really mean it.”  
  
Jean gave a noncommittal gesture halfway between a nod and a shrug as Armin stood up from his chair. Armin hesitated, then leaned in quickly to peck him on the cheek.  
  
He was out the door before Jean's mind even processed what just happened.  
  
-  
  
It would be a good month or so before the next Scouting Legion excursion, which meant that Armin had a good month or so of agonizing over the plans down to the last detail. There were meetings with the other branches to defend their tactics, meeting with representatives of the king to secure funding, meetings with squad leaders to discuss everything else.   
  
There were also the meetings with Jean.  
  
Armin wasn't sure what had prompted him to kiss Jean on the cheek like that. He couldn't rationalize it to himself as just a friendly gesture, not when he had always thought Jean was rather handsome despite (or maybe even because of) the perpetual scowl on his face. He had been afraid Jean would avoid him after that, but the next day in the mess hall Jean had only repeated his offer to talk with Armin.  
  
One talk turned into another, and soon Armin found himself looking forward to their nightly chats. At first they commiserated over Eren and his general obliviousness to lowly things like crushes and feelings, but gradually their conversations drifted to broader topics. Armin learned that Jean had been so obsessed with joining the Military Police as a trainee because of how heavily the food shortages had affected Trost, and he had hated hearing his little sister cry with hunger. He learned that Jean actually didn't want to believe the pessimistic things that he felt he had to say to keep everyone else (especially Eren) grounded. In turn, Armin shared his own fascination with the outside world, his wish to see the ocean. (Jean had been skeptical of such a big body of salted water existing, but he hadn't laughed.) He confided in Jean the terrible burden he felt as a tactician, of being responsible for every letter home to the families of those who died under his plans.  
  
He didn't think he was developing feelings for Jean, not when the very thought of Eren still made his chest ache from the inside out, but he could feel the beginnings of something growing between the two of them.  
  
They were currently both sitting on Jean's bed (Armin had finally abandoned his usual post on the desk chair) and falling over with laughter.  
  
“And then Connie, with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, 3DMG'd himself right into a tree,” Jean was saying, barely able to get the words out of his mouth with how hard he was laughing. It was rare to see any soldier these days with such an expression, let alone Jean. But it was nice. “And he almost took out Shadis on his way down.”  
  
“Wasn't he racing you?” Armin gasped out, clutching his stomach. “The whole thing was probably your fault.”  
  
“It probably was,” Jean grinned and fell back on his bed, still chuckling. “I don't know if you noticed, but I was kind of an ass back in those days.”  
  
“You sure it was just back in those days?” Armin raised his eyebrows, looking down at Jean.  
  
“Shut up!” Jean threw his pillow at Armin, who yelped and nearly fell off the bed when it caught him in the face.   
  
“That's it, Kirschstein, you're going down,” and Armin, in a move more suited to a green trainee than a veteran of three years, grabbed the pillow and returned the favor.  
  
They descended quickly into giggling and a ridiculous wrestling match for the one pillow. Dimly Armin the tactician scolded him for indulging in such childishness, but right now Armin the eighteen-year-old boy couldn't care less. It had been so long since he let himself have any fun and it was long overdue, even if said fun was only viciously tickling Jean until he let go of the pillow.  
  
Finally, they collapsed into a tired heap, the pillow squashed somewhere beneath Armin's back. He settled himself against Jean's chest without really thinking, drawn to the warmth and gentle rise and fall of his breaths. Almost automatically Jean curled around him, only to withdraw just as suddenly and sit upright.  
  
“Is this okay?” Jean's face was flushed, and Armin didn't think it was just from their earlier exertion. “I mean, is this – us – are we a thing now?”  
  
“Does it really matter?” Armin already missed his warmth. He sat up to face him. Slowly, deliberately, he put his hands over Jean's. “Would it be so terrible if I said I just wanted to do things without thinking for once?”  
  
He felt the tendons on the back of Jean's hands tighten and pull beneath his palms before relaxing. Jean smiled, oddly shy. “No, it wouldn't.”  
  
Armin smiled back and ran his thumbs down the slender line of Jean's wrists. He heard Jean's breath hitch. Curious, he repeated the gesture. He didn't mean for it to be especially sensual, but something about the way the pad of his thumb dragged against the bone of Jean's wrist made warmth rise in his belly.  
  
Gently, he turned Jean's hands over and brought them to rest in his lap. He traced the lines in his palms, brushed against old callouses and scars, lost in the sensation of just touching, skin on skin. A pained noise from Jean shook him from his reverie and he looked up.  
  
Jean was blushing furiously. He licked his lips and said, “Can we kiss already before I get a boner from just holding hands?”  
  
Armin laughed, and pulled Jean down to meet his lips, heart hammering. The feeling of another mouth on his was startling at first – he hadn't expected it to be so wet, or so warm. He didn't even remember to close his eyes, just stared at Jean open-mouthed and overwhelmed with the newness of it all. Neither of them moved, rooted still to the spot by their connected but unmoving mouths.  
  
Jean pulled back. “Sorry, that was bad,” he laughed breathlessly. “It's uh, it's been a while. Let me try that again.”   
  
He tilted his head a little as he closed the distance between them, and gingerly rested his hands on the side of Armin's face. Armin let his eyelids fall and he snaked his arms around to wrap around Jean's lean waist.  
  
It was better this time. Jean moved his lips and tongue slowly, guiding Armin through the motions. Armin was nothing if not a quick learner, and soon they found a rhythm, not fast and not slow, just learning the taste and feel of the other.  
  
Feeling brave, Armin slipped his hands under Jean's shirt, enjoying how Jean whimpered into his mouth. Without breaking their kiss, he slowly ran his hands up and down the length of Jean's upper body, marveling at each rib and tensing muscle. He felt his share of scars as well, stripes of rough skin under his fingers.  
  
“Wait,” Jean gasped, his face an inch away from Armin's, “I want to touch you too.”  
  
“We should probably take our clothes off then,” Armin said, too far gone to really be embarrassed. Jean just nodded, and they disentangled themselves to quickly strip off their civilian wear.   
  
Armin couldn't help but stare once Jean was fully nude. Jean was frankly beautiful. He had never really bulked into his height as much as Eren had, but there was a slender grace to his long limbs. He probably didn't have an ounce of extraneous flesh on him. Old scars and bruises from long-term wear of maneuver gear criss-crossed his skin.  
  
He shivered under Armin's scrutiny, though his own eyes were clearly taking in the sight of Armin. Armin had to fight the instinct to hide his own unimpressive body, reminding himself that he trusted Jean and more importantly, Jean trusted him.  
  
“Damn, Armin, you're gorgeous,” Jean finally said in a thick voice.  
  
“That's my line,” he huffed in response, and moved back into the circle of Jean's arms. Jean's bare skin was hot against his own as he pressed their fronts together. Armin let his face fall to the slope of Jean's shoulder, open-mouthing kisses on his neck and collarbone and feeling Jean's pulse race beneath his lips.  
  
Jean let out a breathy sound that was almost a sob and threw his head back, giving Armin access to the underside of his jaw. Armin had never realized the neck could be such a sensitive area, but judging by the way Jean's eyes had slipped closed he was enjoying his ministrations.  
  
Eventually they ended up lying on the bed, Jean pinned under Armin, throat still under attack by inexperienced but very enthusiastic kisses.  
  
“Stop for a moment,” Jean managed to say, and Armin felt the word vibrate in his throat pressed against his cheek, “let me,” and his sentence trailed off. Armin withdrew as requested, puzzled until Jean brought trembling fingers to wrap around both their cocks.  
  
 _Oh._  
  
Armin collapsed against Jean as he slowly worked up a rhythm. The friction of Jean's cock against his own compounded with Jean's firm grasp was enough to send him to oblivion. He convulsively clung to Jean's bony shoulders, pressing his face into Jean's flushed chest and taking fast breaths against his skin.  
  
Jean came first, coating his own stomach with his cum. He keened and arched upward into Armin, his fingers slacking and falling away from their cocks.   
  
Armin was still hard, but he forgot his own need as he watched Jean come undone beneath him. Jean let his head fall back onto the bed, eyes still closed as he caught his breath.  
  
“Sorry,” he said when he came to, noticing Armin's still-present erection. “Let me take care of that.”  
  
He pushed Armin back so that he was sitting upright, and positioned himself on his belly so that his head was between Armin's thighs. An electric thrill ran up Armin's spine once he realized what Jean intended.  
  
He cried out at the sensation of Jean's mouth around him, so wet and warm and soft. Without thinking he jerked his hips upwards, causing Jean to choke and make a noise of complaint, but he didn't pull away. Jean simply pressed his hands on top of Armin's thighs, pinning him down. A judicious swipe of tongue had Armin falling backward, leaning heavily on his elbows to support his own weight.  
  
He knew he wouldn't last long, watching Jean's head bob up and down between his legs. “Jean,” he whined, “I'm going to-”  
  
Jean removed his mouth just as Armin reached his climax, his cum spilling down his chin and dripping onto his chest. Armin was fairly sure he would have come a second time if he could at the sight.  
  
Once he was able to move his limbs again, he took Jean's mouth in a languid kiss, relishing the strangeness of tasting himself on Jean's lips.  
  
“That was incredible,” he said when they parted for air.   
  
Jean smiled, and his face was more relaxed than Armin ever remembered seeing it. “I haven't done that since,” and he let the silence fill in the words _since Marco_. But there wasn't pain in his voice. “I hope I wasn't too out of practice.”  
  
Armin curled up against Jean's chest, not minding the sticky mess on his skin. “It's not like I have anything to compare it to.”  
  
Jean snorted. “That's hardly a compliment.”  
  
Armin kissed him again to silence him. “Just take it as one.”


	4. Chapter 4

Armin was such a permanent fixture in Eren's life that the thought of losing him wasn't even comprehensible. The closest he had come was that day in Trost three years ago, and seeing Armin in the jaws of a Titan had spurred Eren to immediate, unconscious action, despite bleeding out and being sans an arm and a leg.  
  
Even now that Armin more often than not stayed behind from field missions, Eren knew that his best friend would always be there for him once he returned.  
  
So why did it feel like Armin was slipping away from him now that he and Jean were getting closer?  
  
First Eren was sure he wasn't jealous at all, just concerned. But every casual touch and affectionate smile between the two sent prickles of irritation running up his spine. And now Armin was always running off at night to spend time with Jean. He had told Eren they just talked, and Eren had believed him until he saw Jean walking around one morning with a trail of red marks running down his throat. Armin had cursed and quickly tugged Jean's collar closed, but that really only served to further incriminate him.  
  
The worst part was that Eren wasn't even sure if he was jealous of Jean or of Armin, or the both of them.  
  
He had finally managed to find a spare moment with Armin alone, only for Armin to drag him into a strategy meeting to hear the finalized plans.  
  
“Eren, we're counting on you to secure the castle wall. It'll be,” Armin stopped himself, licking his lips and glancing at Eren's face.  
  
“It'll be like Trost,” Eren finished his sentence for him. Trost had been three years ago, but sometimes Eren still wondered, if he had been faster, if he hadn't wasted so much time and let so many Titans in... Ian Dietrich. Mitabi Jarnach. Marco Bodt. Maybe they still would have been here.  
  
Eren swallowed with his suddenly dry mouth, letting his guilt harden into resolve. It was a process he had repeated more times than anyone should ever have to, but he couldn't afford to weep for the fallen. He could only make himself stronger, faster, tougher the next time. His failure was their blood on his hands.  
  
“Levi will take a squad to clear the path ahead,” Armin continued, though he gave Eren another concerned look. He paused before adding, “Jean's squad will be escorting you while you plug the wall.”  
  
Eren's insides froze. The last time a squad had protected him while he was helpless, Rico Brzenska had been the only survivor.  
  
And now Sasha, Connie, Mikasa, and Jean had a very real chance of meeting the same fate as the rest of the Garrison's elite squad. Burned into the back of his eyelids, Eren could still see Ian screaming at him to advance even as half his body was within a Titan's maw. He pictured Jean in Ian's place, Mikasa crushed like Mitabi, Sasha and Connie torn to pieces, and immediately felt sick to his stomach.  
  
“Eren?” Armin laid a hand on his arm, feather-soft and barely there, but still enough to bring him back to the present. Eren drew in a shaking breath and blinked rapidly before turning his head to meet Armin's eyes.  
  
“It'll be dangerous for them, won't it,” he forced the words out through the lump in his throat. “I won't be able to help them fight at all.” _I'll have to watch them die if it comes to it_ , he thought.  
  
Armin only nodded, his expression inscrutable.  
  
“Are you really all right with this?” Eren asked. “This is almost a death sentence.”  
  
Armin lowered his gaze. “You know that Jean's squad has the most familiarity with your Titan form. We have to use Levi to clear a path ahead. This is the best, no, the only configuration we can go with.”  
  
How could Armin keep such an impassive face? Eren wanted to shake him, to yell at him until he showed even a hint of the same turmoil that roiled in Eren's chest.  
  
“Would you be willing to send Sasha and Connie to die? Mikasa? _Jean?_ ” Armin didn't even flinch at the last name. Eren clenched his hands into fists on the table, the plans blurring before his eyes. “I thought you and Jean... aren't you in love with him?”  
  
Armin closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. When he opened his eyes again, Eren was struck speechless by the sheer weariness in them.  
  
“I'm not. And it doesn't matter. Don't you see, Eren? Every single one of us is expendable. Everyone except for you. Every one of us is ready to die. We knew that when we joined the Scouting Legion. Their lives will be in your hands.”  
  
Eren felt like all the breath had been crushed from his chest with his sudden realization. “Erwin... Commander Erwin did this on purpose, didn't he. To make it so there's no way I can fail.” He laughed, surprising himself with his sudden lightheadedness. It was a good thing he was already seated. “I can't believe it. I can't fucking believe it. Do they really think I don't have enough at stake already?”  
  
“Eren,” Armin said, much more quietly. “I'm sorry.”  
  
Well, he got his earlier wish, because now Armin was letting his utter misery and exhaustion show through. Armin had gotten taller and filled out a bit over the last three years, but right now he looked even more fragile than he did as a child being bullied in Zhiganshina.  
  
“Damn it all,” and Eren couldn't stop himself from bringing Armin into a tight hug, even though he knew Armin didn't like to be touched by him. Even as Armin stiffened in his arms, Eren couldn't help wanting to hold him close. “Damn it,” and Eren didn't even feel ashamed of the hot tears that dripped down his nose to land on Armin's shoulder.  
  
“I have something to confess,” Armin said, tone small and flat. “I was the one who suggested this configuration.”  
  
Eren's blood turned to ice in his veins. He lacked the strength even to recoil, just went stone-still around Armin.  
  
“I'm not going to expect you to forgive me,” Armin went on in that small voice. “But I had no choice. There was no choice.”  
  
“Armin, what have they done to you?” Eren said into his shoulder, unwilling to look at his face. “What have you become?”  
  
Gently, Armin untangled himself from Eren's rigid embrace and stood up to leave. “Stay safe, Eren.”  
  
It was only after Armin left the room that Eren realized he never answered his questions.  
  
-  
  
Eren was so very tired.  
  
Every step was a concentrated effort. It took everything he had just to keep the massive body of flesh and bone from falling apart under the weight of the boulders he carried. He could barely even feel his arms; all sensation had been replaced by searing pain, like his muscles were on the verge of snapping.  
  
A nine-meter class barreled towards him, and he could only continue walking forward, trusting his comrades to come take it out. Sure enough, Mikasa flashed by with a streak of red scarf, downing the Titan in a single strike. Eren didn't even have time to turn his head to acknowledge her as he stepped over the Titan's steaming corpse.  
  
The unlucky fifth member of Jean's squad had already fallen. His name had been Adrian Huber, and he had been in the top ten of his year. Eren hadn't ever gotten the chance to learn more about him, and now he was dead, crushed between a Titan's jaws on only his second mission.  
  
He trudged on, forcing his knees to work, to bend and straighten and keep going.  
  
From the corner of his eye he saw a blur.  
  
“Aberrant!” he heard Jean's voice shout. “Shit, there's another one- Connie, Sasha, take out the one on the right. Mikasa, let's get this other one!”  
  
Eren couldn't stop to watch their fight, could only force himself forward as they flew into battle behind him. This was the last boulder he had to move. Once he put this in place they would be safe, he could rejoin the fight and wouldn't have to helplessly stand by.  
  
A pair of earthshaking thuds from behind assured him that the pair of Aberrants had been felled.  
  
“Sasha, Connie, take the sides. Mikasa, back to Eren's six! I'll take point.” Jean zipped into view, giving Eren a quick nod when he briefly touched ground at his feet. “Almost there, Eren. Hang in there!” he shouted up at him.  
  
Eren kept his eyes on Jean's form darting about in front of him. As long as Jean was in his sight, some of the weight on his heart eased and he could concentrate on the weight on his shoulders. With a roar of exertion he forced himself to move faster, though he was still not quite jogging.  
  
“Jean, watch out!” That was Sasha's voice. “Two fifteen meters coming from the left!”  
  
“That's not it!” came Connie's voice. “We got another Aberrant on the back that got past Mikasa – it's a big one - fucker's fast too!”  
  
Jean glanced up at Eren before shooting up a nearby wall. “Keep going,” he yelled. “We'll cover you!” He sailed through the air to one of the fifteen meters, and Eren would have found the arc he made in the air quite beautiful if not for the situation they were in. His blades flashed in the sun, and the Titan fell forward. Jean kicked off from the Titan's shoulders back to land on the wall, only for the mentioned Aberrant to lunge at him from out of nowhere. Jean sidestepped away in time, but the dilapidated wall around him crumpled around the impact.  
  
“Jean!” Eren heard Connie scream at the cloud of collapsing brick and dust. Fear stabbed at his heart, but Eren couldn't stop. He was so close, he just had to go another hundred meters or so, then he could put this boulder down and turn around to find Jean safe and sound-  
  
“Mikasa, Sasha, I'm going in to get him!” Connie shouted. “Can you take the other fifteen-meter and the Aberrant?”  
  
“No, you can't!” Mikasa's voice came, uncharacteristically tense. “We have to stay with Eren. We have to finish the mission. There are more Titans up ahead, we need all of us on them!”  
  
“Damn it!” Connie cursed, but nevertheless zipped to Eren's front, cutting down a five-meter class. “If that asshole dies from having a wall fall on him I'm never going to let him live it down!”  
  
“We're clear in the back now!” Sasha cried. “Eren, I'm sure Jean's going to be all right, just keep going!”  
  
He held on to Sasha's words, repeated them in his head like a mantra as he forced his aching legs into a run. _Jean's going to be all right, he's going to be all right, just keep going. Jean's going to be all right._  
  
Eren howled, and mustered every last ounce of strength in his battered monstrosity of a body to slam the boulder into place. Already he could see hapless Titans on the other side throwing themselves uselessly against the now-blocked hole.  
  
Adrenaline keeping him going, he whirled around to dash back to the collapsed wall, despite the slow disintegration of his Titan legs. He sank to his knees, pushing aside rubble with great openhanded scoops, terrified of what he might find. Jean had to be all right, he had to be, he was too cynical and brash and infuriating to die, he had to be there to nag Eren and keep him grounded and remind him that he was just human, and-  
  
Jean was still. He was frighteningly still. Eren picked up his limp form in his hands and screamed.


	5. Chapter 5

Once again, Armin found himself waiting by the gates, heart in his throat as he awaited the return of the expedition and the results of what he had helped to plan.   
  
He never allowed himself to hope for the best. He didn't have the right to wishful thinking. If his comrades died under his commands, then he should face the truth and the consequences in full. He was prepared to see any of them on that cart, wrapped in their green cloaks and wedged among the dead.   
  
So Armin stood at the front of the crowd that had gathered upon seeing the smoke signal indicating the approaching Scouting Legion, and forced himself to accept the reality that there was a very good chance Jean would not be walking back through those gates. Plenty of bodies were never recovered. It made no difference to the Titans if Jean was beautiful, if he loved it when Armin marked his body, if Armin might have even loved him though he didn't know how to admit it to himself.  
  
The goodbye kiss Jean had snuck him might well be the last time Armin ever felt his warm skin or heard his voice. Armin knew this, but he sent Jean's squad out there anyway. The fact that Jean knew it too didn't make him feel any better.  
  
A loud creak as the gates swung open, and Armin jumped, startled from his reverie. He took in a deep breath, then another, to steady himself, nails digging deep into his sweating palms.  
  
There weren't as many injured or fallen as there could have been. Those able to ride or walk on their own (and there was an encouraging amount) looked proud, heads held high. Armin guessed that the plan had been successful then, but he couldn't allow himself to feel hope, not before he saw Eren and Mikasa and Connie and Sasha and _Jean_ -  
  
He caught a flash of red cloth in the corner of his eye and followed it to Mikasa's scarf. She waved at him, but the gesture was short and terse. He knew Mikasa well enough to be able to tell the difference between her usual bluntness and when she was actually nervous. It looked like the latter.  
  
Armin hurried over to where she was riding, mentally counting off people he knew as he passed them. Sasha and Connie were side by side, looking all right despite a few scratches and bruises, though their faces were serious. Cold fear seized Armin's insides. Where were Eren and Jean?   
  
When he reached her, Mikasa wordlessly pointed at the cart (the one that carried the injured, not the dead, Armin noted with a surge of relief so strong his knees almost buckled). He spotted Eren sitting upright and rushed over, ducking between horses and soldiers in his haste.  
  
Eren was cradling Jean's head in his lap and holding tight onto his hand. He looked up when Armin arrived.  
  
“Jean took a bad hit,” Eren said to him, eyebrows drawn together in worry. “A wall collapsed on him near the end of the mission.”  
  
Jean's eyes opened blearily at the mention of his name, startling Armin, who hadn't expected him to be conscious. He looked around in a daze until his eyes focused on Armin. He started to say something and tried to sit up, only to be scolded and gently held down by Eren.  
  
“Don't try to move or talk,” Eren hissed down at him, angrily patting down the folded cloaks around his head. He still had Jean's hand clenched tight in his own. “The medics will be here soon.”  
  
Armin stood helplessly by as the cart slowed and the medics came onto the scene. He wrung his hands as he watched them unload Jean onto a stretcher, each grunt of pain and wince from Jean feeling like his own. Eren gave Armin an unreadable look before turning to accompany the stretcher bearing Jean to the nearby trauma tent.  
  
Armin hovered at the scene, torn between wanting to follow him in and feeling like he didn't have the right. He didn't think he could stand to face Eren right now. So he stood there uselessly, lip almost gnawed through with anxiety as he stared at the tent, until he was pulled away into a post-operation meeting.  
  
-  
  
It was much later that night that Armin found a spare moment to visit the infirmary. He had barely been able to stomach his food during dinner, which he had only forced himself to attend because Erwin and Levi had wanted to continue their conversation with him there. The moon was high in the sky by the time he managed to slip away to find Jean.  
  
Eren was still at his bedside, looking gloomy and sullen. He acknowledged Armin's arrival with a slight nod before turning his eyes back to Jean's still face.  
  
“He's sleeping now – they gave him a draught for the pain.”  
  
“How bad were his injuries?” Armin asked timidly, guilt gnawing a hole in his insides. Eren had never been this tense around Armin before, but he could hardly blame him.  
  
“He was lucky. A few cracked ribs, but it could have been a lot worse.” Eren fell into silence, still not looking at Armin.   
  
Hesitantly, Armin pulled up another chair next to Eren and joined him in staring at Jean's face. He thought of the last time he had sat uselessly by a bedside with Jean and Eren, only Jean was much more fragile than Eren, couldn't knit his muscle and bone together and shrug off fatal injuries.  
  
“You know,” Eren said at last, breaking the thick silence, “for a moment back there, I thought he was dead.”  
  
Armin thought about putting a hand on Eren's shoulder, but his limbs felt leaden. He could only stare glassily at Eren as he continued.  
  
“He had been knocked out for a bit, but I thought...” Eren's voice faltered. He cleared his throat and went on. “The worst part was, when he went down, I couldn't go back. I was so close to finishing the mission, I had to just leave him there and tell myself he'd be okay. But when I dug him out of that wall, and he wasn't moving...”  
  
Armin finally managed to get his hand to move, and he placed it gently on Eren's forearm. Eren glanced first at his hand, surprised, then looked at him.  
  
“I was so scared of losing him. But Armin,” Eren bit his lip, “I was scared for you too.”  
  
Armin blinked. “For me?”  
  
“I was scared of what it would do to you, knowing that Jean died on your orders. Armin, I worry about you.”  
  
Armin frowned, perplexed. “You're worrying about me when Jean's the one lying here?”  
  
Eren put his hand over Armin's on his forearm and looked into his eyes. “Jean told me once, what you said about giving up your humanity for the sake of humanity. I don't want that to happen. Not to you.”  
  
Armin's eyes were riveted on Eren's face, his voice stuck in his throat. Eren's face was always an open book of emotion, and his fervent gaze was too much for Armin to handle. Eren's hand was almost uncomfortably hot around his own.  
  
“I need _you_ , Armin, not as a tactician, or a hero of humanity, but just as you. I don't want to lose you to the Titans or to yourself.”  
  
Armin's throat closed, and it was all he could do to not burst into tears right then and there in the infirmary.   
  
“What... what are you trying to say, Eren?” he forced out, having a feeling he knew but not daring to latch onto it.  
  
“I'm in love with you,” and leave it to Eren to just say it like that, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like Armin should have known all along. “Both of you.”  
  
Armin forgot how to breathe.  
  
“I know you're with Jean, and I'm not trying to come between you two, but,” Eren was babbling now, but Armin's head was spinning too much to even really notice. “Shit, this whole thing is so weird, and, and I don't even know what I was trying to say. It's just, it took almost losing him for me to realize it, and I didn't want to wait to say it, not when the worst could happen at any time-”  
  
“Jean is going to be so mad,” Armin laughed, slightly hysterically. “You finally confessed your feelings for him, and he's not even awake to hear it.”  
  
“Oh,” and Eren flushed, suddenly just the boy Armin had fallen in love with all those years ago again, still charging in headfirst with his emotions, consequences be damned. Armin's chest clenched tight with affection. “I guess I could have timed that better.”  
  
Armin laughed again, forgetting for a moment that they were surrounded by the beds of the sick and injured and drawing a glare from the nurse on duty. His happiness had caught up with his shock and he was suddenly light-headed with dizzy relief and confused joy. He still felt the weight of his sins; the beds around him a testament to that, but for now, he let himself just be a boy as well.  
  
“I love you too, Eren,” he said. “I've always loved you. Both of us,” he glanced down at Jean, who was unhelpfully still asleep, and absently smoothed his bangs back from his forehead, “have been in love with you for a long time, I think.”  
  
“Really?” Eren looked shocked, as if he couldn't see why Armin and Jean both would love him. Armin supposed he had no way of knowing how he drew them like moths to a flame, lesser creatures captivated by his passion and dependent on his fire, as if he were their sun.  
  
“I think we have a lot to discuss,” Armin smiled, placing his other hand on top of Eren's. Maybe it proved he was a terrible person, to seek happiness despite everything he had done and would likely still have to do. But for now, he let Eren bring him into a hug and let himself fall into the comfort of his solid warmth.   
  
-  
  
Another month between missions, another month of anxious planning and deceptive peace. Armin wished he could enjoy the precious time that he had with his friends between expeditions more, but the success of the previous one only meant more work for him. Still, he could always find some time before bed to visit Jean in the infirmary, and Eren was content to silently accompany him as he pored over countless maps and charts.   
  
And Eren was more than happy to catch up on lost time with him at night, making up for the years of silent longing and pining and aching.  
  
He was having a quiet dinner with Eren and Mikasa, long after most of the troops had already eaten. Mikasa and Eren had spent a long day executing increasingly complicated 3DMG maneuvers and were too tired and hungry to talk much, but Armin didn't mind.   
  
Mikasa drained the last of her soup and set down her bowl. “Oh right, Hange asked me to tell you that Jean's just been cleared for active duty. Looks like he'll be joining us on the next expedition after all.”  
  
Eren and Armin exchanged a brief glance. They had told Mikasa about the change in their relationship almost as soon as it had happened, but Armin couldn't help but worry that the change would leave Mikasa feeling left out.   
  
She sighed, and got up to wrap her arms around both boys, just like when they were kids. “If you're worried about what I think, don't be. I’m happy for you. You know that.”  
  
Armin relaxed into the familiar embrace. “You know we'll always love you, Mikasa.”  
  
She gave both of them a quick squeeze. “Of course. You're my family,” she said matter-of-factly, and paused. “I suppose that includes Jean now, too.” She cocked her head thoughtfully, and shrugged. “Well, I know that cleared for duty also means cleared for sex, so I won't keep you too long. Eren, it's about time you consummated your relationship with Jean.”  
  
Eren choked out a strangled “Mikasa!” while Armin felt his face burn. Still, he felt a grin coming on. With a kiss to Mikasa's cheek each, Armin and Eren left for the barracks.

“There you are,” Jean greeted them both with a quick kiss when they reached his quarters. Armin was still a bit dazed by the new patterns of their relationship, despite having had almost a month to get used to it being the three of them and not just the strange half-acknowledged thing between him and Jean. But it was the kind of daze that left him with a thrill, excited and hungry for more, drunk on being young and in love.  
  
Yes, he had lied to Eren about not loving Jean, though at the time he hadn't even realized it. But now he knew it down to his very bones and never wanted to let Jean forget it. He buried his face in the crook of Jean's neck, not even moving his mouth, just resting lips against skin and inhaling the scent of him.  
  
In the meantime, Eren was gently guiding the three of them to the bed.  
  
“Are we really going to try and fit there?” Jean laughed, and Armin sucked against the flutter in his throat. “We might be better off on the floor.”  
  
Eren pulled a face. “I don't want my first time with you to be on the _floor_ ,” to which Jean raised his eyebrows.  
  
“Not romantic enough for you?” Jean teased, and Eren silenced him with a kiss. Armin watched appreciatively, already half-hard in his pants from wanting Jean for so long. They had dared only to give him a few mild make-out sessions while he was still recovering, and Armin couldn't wait to be reacquainted with his body. And he had been savoring the thought of Eren with Jean, sometimes late at night beneath his covers.  
  
Eren gently laid Jean down onto the bed, mouth still linked to his as he bent over him, careful to support his own weight with his arms to avoid undue strain on Jean's newly recovered ribs. Armin had to smile at how Jean practically melted into Eren's every touch – he knew from experience how easily Jean could get worked up, and how receptive to touch he was.   
  
By this point Eren had slipped his hands under Jean's button-down shirt, running his fingers over still-bruised ribs as if to assure himself that Jean was still there and still whole. Suddenly, Armin found himself needing that validation too, and he helped Eren pull away Jean's shirt.  
  
Jean looked up at them from his position on the bed, his cheeks flushed and his eyes wide with indescribable emotion, hands sprawled on either side of his head. A fresh wave of lust hit Armin, taking him aback with just how much he wanted him.  
  
Eren must have felt the same way, as he fell upon Jean anew with mouth and hands, attacking his neck with a tender fury that left the both of them breathless. At some point Eren tried to use one hand to take off his own shirt and the other to rub at Jean's chest at the same time, and Armin had to help him when he got tangled in his haste.  
  
“Sorry,” Eren laughed, voice thick with lust despite the sudden humor of the situation. As ridiculous as he looked with his shirt awkwardly looped around his back, he was still beautiful, maybe even more so thanks to how passionate and urgent he looked.  
  
“Hey Armin, while you're doing that,” Jean interjected from the bed, “might as well take off the rest of his clothes.”  
  
Armin obliged gladly, quickly unbuckling Eren's belt and pulling his pants away. Eren's cock sprang free and erect once the confines of his pants were removed, and Armin didn't miss the way Jean's eyes flew to Eren's cock, nor the heavy swallow that bobbed down Jean's throat. Jean hurried to strip his own clothing off, and he had no sooner dropped his pants than Eren fell on him anew.  
  
“Armin, do you want to...?” Jean held Eren still for a moment and gestured vaguely.  
  
“No, not yet,” Armin replied. “It's your first time with each other. I don't mind just watching.” At Jean's amused eyebrow, he hastened to add, “That is, if you're all right with it. Me, watching.”   
  
He had thought he was beyond blushing with Jean, but this new dynamic – this new _them_ – made him feel like a stuttering virgin again.  
  
Jean laughed, not unkindly. “I don't mind. It's, well. It's kind of hot, actually.”  
  
Eren just grunted in assent and resumed his assault, cradling Jean's face in both hands to kiss him sweetly and deeply while grinding their hips together. Jean brought his own hands around to rest on Eren's back, not hesitating to dig his nails in and claw as their pace grew heated.   
  
“Eren, I want you to fuck me,” Jean whimpered, drawing back from a kiss that left him breathless, “I want you inside of me.” Upon hearing this, Eren gave a kind of choking, eager sound and just clutched Jean close in a movement that was almost convulsive in its urgency.  
  
Armin fetched the lube from the bedside drawer that he was long since familiar with at this point and hesitated, threads of an idea coming to his mind. “Do you want me to help prepare?”  
  
Both Jean and Eren nodded, and Jean scrambled onto his hands and knees. Armin squeezed a good amount onto his hands, warming it before pressing a finger into Jean. The almost-agonized sounding moan from Jean made him crease his forehead in concern and withdraw his hand. “Are you going to be all right? It's been a while.”  
  
“Don't worry about me. I've wanted this for the entire month I’ve been stuck in bed. And it's not like I haven't uh,” Jean bit his lip as he looked back at Armin, somehow managing to flush even more, “you know, back there in that whole time.”  
  
Eren snorted, and Jean threw him a mock glare. “What! I might have been looking forward to this, like, a lot, okay?”  
  
That was enough to convince Armin, so he slid his finger back in, taking his time to push around the circle of Jean's hole and stretch him out. Not wanting to neglect Eren, he used his other hand still covered with lube to slick Eren's cock up. Eren shifted into a sitting position next to Jean to allow Armin easier access to both of them at the same time.  
  
Soon the room was filled with both Jean and Eren's soft gasping noises, and Armin took no small amount of pride in the knowledge that it was his hands that drew them forth. He increased his pace on Eren's cock and added two more fingers in Jean, thrusting with a bit more force now that Jean was relaxed.  
  
“Ah, Armin,” Eren whined, placing his own hand over Armin's to still him, “if you keep going I'm not going to last.”  
  
“Same here,” Jean added. “I'm more than ready for you, Eren.”  
  
Armin relented, and stood back to let Eren get up and position himself behind Jean. Eren pressed the tip of his cock to his ass, hesitating.  
  
“What are you waiting for?” Jean's voice was thick, breathy, demanding. “Fuck me already.”  
  
Eren swallowed, and rested his hands lightly on Jean's waist. “I want to see your face. Can we do it that way?”  
  
“I don't know, Eren, it might put a lot of strain on Jean's ribs-”  
  
“Screw that,” Jean cut Armin off and flipped around so that he was on his back. He grimaced a bit as he lifted his legs and hooked his knees over Eren's shoulders. “They did clear me for active duty, you know. If I can't even do this, 3DMG's out of the question.”  
  
All the same, Armin thought it prudent to tuck a pillow under Jean's hips to support his weight better.   
  
“All right, Eren, you ready now?” Jean pulled Eren towards him with his legs. Eren leaned himself forward to capture Jean's mouth in another kiss, though he was still careful to avoid putting his weight onto him. “I should have known you'd want to be so sappy. Damn, are you going to want to stare into my eyes the whole time?” Jean huffed when Eren broke for breath.  
  
“Shut up, don't ruin our first time,” Eren retorted, but with a tender smile on his face as he stroked Jean's cheek. “I can be sappy if I want to.”  
  
With his free hand he guided his cock to Jean's entrance. Taking a deep breath, he slowly pushed in until he was completely buried in Jean.  
  
“Fuck,” Jean let the word out with a long hiss and his head fell back against the sheets. Eren just held himself still there for a long while, one hand still cupping Jean's face while the other spread flat against his ribs. “Eren,” Jean whimpered, looking hopelessly lost, and he was staring into Eren's eyes after all – “Eren.”  
  
The sound of his name on Jean's lips seemed to break a spell in Eren, and he began moving against Jean, setting a pace that had to be tortuously sweet and slow. He let his hands wander the length of Jean's body, running up and down his sides until they settled on his chest, thumbs rubbing circles around his nipples. Jean's own hands were at his sides, fingers clawing uselessly into the bunched sheets around him.   
  
Armin dropped his own pants as he took himself in hand, greedily drinking in the sight of his two lovers discovering each other's bodies.   
  
“Jean,” Eren was gasping, still gazing deep and intense into his eyes. “Jean, you're so beautiful, I’ve wanted you so bad, for so long. Jean, I love you.”  
  
Jean turned his head to the side at that last bit, eyes slipping shut as he cried out Eren's name over and over. Eren reached down to fist a hand over Jean's cock, already dripping with precum. His thrusts grew frantic, each one pulling a broken little gasp from Jean.  
  
Eren cried out and buried his face in Jean's neck as he came, thrusting hard and deep. He didn't pull out, and Armin could only imagine the heat that had to be filling Jean right now. His own hand on his cock worked quicker at the thought, and he came as he watched Jean finish in Eren's hand.  
  
Eren pulled out shakily, making a face at the mess but flopping down to aggressively cuddle Jean all the same. He lazily extended a hand toward Armin as well, pulling him down so that they sandwiched Jean between them.  
  
They lay in comfortable silence for a few golden moments, sharing each other's body heat and listening to each other's slowing breaths. Jean threaded his hand into Armin's hair and Eren absently trailed his fingers back and forth over Armin's forearm.  
  
Jean and Eren kissed again, more slowly and less heated this time. Armin didn't think he would ever get tired of watching them kiss. From this distance he could appreciate the way Jean's usually furrowed eyebrows softened, the way his eyes always slipped shut almost immediately, the way Eren would steal little peeks even as he hungrily claimed Jean's mouth. He felt his cock give a little twitch of interest as Eren broke the contact of their mouths to nibble down Jean's neck, sucking hard to leave a trail of dark red.  
  
Eren looked up at Armin with a wicked, if somewhat apologetic grin. “I was so jealous when I saw the hickeys you left. I’m glad I finally got to make some of my own.” He went back to working his mouth against Jean's skin.  
  
Armin pressed his open mouth against the other side of Jean's neck in response, liberally using his teeth so that he left his own marks.  
  
Jean cracked an eye open to pout. “Do I look like some kind of chew toy to you two?”  
  
“I know you like it,” Armin paused to say before going back to dart his tongue over the spots of heat his teeth left.  
  
“Yeah, I do,” Jean admitted with a laugh. He drew in a sharp breath as Armin moved to lap at the spot right under his ear.   
  
Eren hummed low in his throat from Jean's other side. “Damn, are you getting hard again already?”  
  
“What did you think would happen if – _ah_ – both of you, at the same time,” Jean never finished his sentence, as Armin licked a stripe along his jawline that made him keen.  
  
“I still haven't had you yet,” Armin said into Jean's ear. “Interested in a round two?”  
  
“ _Yes._ ” The question was hardly out of Armin's mouth before Jean replied. Eren rolled away and waved lazily at them.  
  
“You go ahead, I still need a moment.”  
  
Armin leaned over Jean to give Eren a quick peck before turning his attentions back to the former. Their kiss started languid and sweet, but as Armin felt himself growing harder so did their kiss increase in intensity, until he was practically fucking Jean's mouth with his tongue, not even caring about the occasional scrape of teeth.  
  
“Fuck me, Armin,” Jean moaned into his mouth.   
  
Armin drew back, eyebrows raised. “Are you sure? You're not sore after Eren?”  
  
“I don't care, I want you,” Jean reassured him, nuzzling into his hair. “It's been a month. How am I supposed to live for a month without your cock?”  
  
“Flatterer,” Armin scoffed, but he reached down to finger Jean again anyway. He was still slick with lube and Eren's come alike, so Armin's fingers easily sank into him. He didn't bother starting slow; Jean was already stretched out and soon Armin was working three fingers in and out of him.  
  
Armin reached around to flip Jean over onto his stomach. Whatever Eren's misgivings, Armin was perfectly fine with this position. He wasted no time in pushing his cock into Jean's ass, groaning once he was enveloped by the familiar tightness and heat he had missed so much.  
  
After a few thrusts Armin found the right angle to hit the spot that he had learned so well in Jean, and Jean was soon rutting back against him. Armin let his head fall back as he lost himself, gripping his hands tight on Jean's hips as he took him hard and fast.  
  
He was abruptly brought back down to earth when Eren cleared his throat next to them in a way obviously meant to get their attention. It worked, maybe too well, and Armin pulled out, shooting him a quizzical look while Jean tried to glare, though the effect was rather lessened by his flushed face and sex-mussed hair.  
  
“Yes, Eren?” Jean snapped.  
  
Eren sheepishly looked down at his own returned erection before answering. “I, well, I just had an idea. I don't know if you want to try it, or if it'd work but. Do you think you could take both of us at the same time?”  
  
The last sentence came out in a rush, trailing off as Eren blushed hard. Jean stared at him glassily. Armin blinked and thought about it.  
  
“I think I see a way we could do it,” he said after a long moment. “Well, if Jean is interested.”  
  
Jean let out the breath he'd been holding, resting his head on his arms. “That's either the hottest idea I’ve ever heard or the worst. Let's do it.”

“Eren, if you sit and let Jean ride you,” Armin pushed Eren back onto the bed and pulled Jean onto his lap so that they faced each other. “I can probably fit in from behind.”  
  
“Huh, I never would have thought of that,” Jean said. “That's why you're the tactician, I guess.”  
  
“Yes, I’m sure Commander Erwin would be thrilled if he knew I was using my strategic knowledge to figure out how to doubly penetrate you,” Armin deadpanned.  
  
“Can we stop talking and uh, get started already?” Eren interrupted, his hands already around Jean's ass. Jean kissed him in reply and lifted his hips, slotting Eren's cock into the cleft of his ass.   
  
Armin brought back the bottle of lube for good measure, coating his hand as he went to stand behind Jean. Experimentally, he slid his fingers against where Eren and Jean were joined, marveling at the give in Jean's flesh. With a bit of patience and a lot more lube, he managed to slot three fingers in lengthwise to Eren's cock. Both of his lovers cried out when Armin wiggled his fingers as best he could, trying to stretch Jean out even more.   
  
“I think I can do it now,” he informed Jean before pressing his own cock next to Eren, against Jean. One last helping of lube, and he was pushing in, tighter than he had ever felt it, with Eren wedged against him and surrounded by Jean.   
  
“Holy fucking shit,” Jean gasped, falling forward onto Eren, who was by now lying on his back. “Give – give me a moment.”  
  
Armin felt him tense around them, and he feared for a brief and dizzying moment that he would break. But then Jean wriggled his hips into a better angle and managed to relax, lying face-to-face and almost flush against Eren.  
  
“All right,” Jean breathed, eyes half-lidded. “I’m good. Armin, I think you'll have to do the moving.”  
  
Seeing as Eren was pinned beneath both Jean and Armin's combined weight and Jean actually had two dicks in him, Armin agreed with the assessment. Slowly, carefully, he tried pulling out halfway and thrusting back in. The friction, the heat, the tightness was incredible, so intense that Armin almost couldn't tell pleasure from pain. But another thrust, grinding against Eren's cock inside Jean (and the thought still made Armin dizzy) and he edged over into pleasure. Judging by the soft breathy gasps from Jean and the strangled cry from Eren, they agreed.  
  
Feeling brave, Armin upped the pace, enough so that both Jean and Eren were rocking beneath him. Jean's skin was on fire beneath his hands, his entire body flushed and trembling. Armin had never seen anything so erotic. Eren was trapped almost helplessly, buried deep in Jean and most of the movement he felt from Armin's cock sliding against his.  
  
Jean was cursing, swearing profanities that blended together into nonsense even as the corners of his mouth curled upwards in his agonized pleasure. Armin adjusted his angle a bit lower, trying to find his prostate.   
  
“There, there,” Jean was begging, _pleading_ , once Armin hit a spot that sent a visible twitch running through Jean's body. He thrust again there, harder, and Jean was sobbing into Eren's hair.  
  
“Do you want me to stop?” Armin asked, concerned.  
  
“Don't stop don't stop don't stop,” Jean whined, even as his eyes were clenched tight. “Fuck, it's just so much. Keep going,” and Armin didn't have to be told twice.  
  
“I wonder,” Armin panted, mind on the verge of lustful oblivion, “if you can come just from us inside you like this.”  
  
Jean did come at that, with a startlingly loud scream, shaking apart between him and Eren as Armin kept thrusting, sending all three of them creaking into the mattress. His clawing fingers left long red trails down Eren's shoulders. Eren followed soon after, bringing his arms up to clutch at both Jean and Armin, wrapping them into a tight mass of rapid heartbeats and heavy breaths and body heat. He moaned both their names, or some approximation or combination, and collapsed under Jean as he pulled out.  
  
It was more than enough to send Armin undone as well, and he was certain he had never come so hard in his whole life, shooting his load over Jean and Eren both, hanging onto Jean's shoulders to prevent himself from stumbling to the floor. His vision went dark for a moment, stars flaring behind his eyeballs as he fell sideways onto the bed between his lovers.  
  
When he had come to his senses again, Armin propped himself up on an elbow to glance at the other two on either side of him. Jean was sprawled completely limp on the bed, and Eren wasn't doing much better. Both of them looked completely fucked out and utterly satisfied, despite the rapidly cooling sticky mess that stained all of them.  
  
“Wow,” Eren said coherently to the ceiling. “That was, just. Wow.”  
  
Jean just made a sleepy noise and an abortive effort to move. He managed to lift his arm before giving up and flopping back down.   
  
Armin pulled Eren and Jean close to him and listening to their breaths slow as they drifted off to sleep. In the morning he would have to meet with Erwin, Levi, and Hange again and they would have to draft new plans. The future was coming towards them with dizzying speed, and Zhiganshina was closer every day. Tomorrow would bring more fresh pains and hard decisions. Armin knew this, but nestled snugly between Eren and Jean's sleeping forms, he could believe that he could face tomorrow, and maybe even come out with his humanity intact.  
  
He closed his eyes and let sleep claim him, heart finally at peace.


End file.
